


The Digging in the Dark

by Tarrinatopaz



Category: Original Work
Genre: Cave-In, Gen, Monsters, POV First Person, Trapped, i accidentally wrote a scary story?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-22
Updated: 2018-04-22
Packaged: 2019-04-26 12:09:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14401863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tarrinatopaz/pseuds/Tarrinatopaz
Summary: I can hear it again.The digging.





	The Digging in the Dark

**Author's Note:**

> This was inspired, for the most part, by the story of the attempted rescue of Floyd Collins from Sand Cave (part of the Mammoth Cave complex) in 1925.

I can hear it again.

The digging. 

I’ve heard nothing but digging for the last two weeks as teams work to free me from the earth that fear with every passing moment will become my tomb.

But this is the digging that I heard before anyone from the outside world had found me. 

This digging is somewhere behind me, deeper in the cave, deeper than even I had dared to explore. 

I know not what is doing it, only that it is not human. 

There are no other humans here now. Only me.

My would be rescuers retreated to the surface after part of this tunnel caved in. none have returned since. I do not blame them.

Perhaps they will find another way to get to me. I pray they will. They must try!

It’s so dark and I am afraid.

The digging in the deep sounds closer now.

It makes my heart race, rabbit quick in my chest.

I do not want to die here.

I hear rocks shift behind me.

I do not want to look but I do anyway. It is hard even to turn my head in this cramped space.

In the coal black of the tunnel red eyes glow. I can hear it breathing.

I do not want to die here! 

I struggle despite the fact that I know i cannot free myself.

The eyes draw closer and I can feel it breathing.

My own breath, that had been frozen in my chest since i turned, now all leaves me in a rush as I scream.

I scream so loudly they may even hear me on the surface, but it has done nothing to scare thoses eyes away.

The breath of whatever foul creature has found me smells of rot and I know that if my friends ever do devise a way to get me out they will not find me alive, if they find me at all.

I look into those red, red eyes and whisper to the thing in the dark, “Make it quick.”

**Author's Note:**

> The real Floyd Collins died of exhaustion and exposure on Friday the 13th (ooo spooky) of February 1925, three days before the rescue team was able to complete a rescue tunnel. It took an additional two months to remove his body from the cave.


End file.
